


Perfect

by Nephthysian



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nephthysian/pseuds/Nephthysian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's good, there's great, and there's amazing, but it takes more than that for Stephanie Brown to find the perfect waffle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daasvedanya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daasvedanya/gifts).



> Forever and a day ago, daasvedanya prompted me with Steph + finding the perfect waffle, and here we are at long, long, long last. Happy birthday, Anya!

**i.**   
It wasn’t a massive floodlight shining a beacon into the sky, but that hadn’t stopped the Dynamic Duo from finding her not-so-hidden message. Steph watched through her binoculars as Robin pulled the note from a crack in the brick and waved it at his mentor; they only converged for a moment before running off.

“Guess they got it, then,” she murmured, folding the binoculars and tying them to her belt in what she hoped was a secure fashion.

She waited until she heard the revving of a certain infamous engine and the squeal of bat-tires on asphalt before hopping down from her perch. Giving the binoculars a final pat, she started to run.

The klaxon of police sirens filled the street by the time she arrived, painting the surrounding buildings in a flare of red and blue. Puffing for breath behind her mask, she skipped past the shattered skylight and leaned over the edge of the roof in time to see a familiar, ponytailed head being ducked into the back of a patrol car.

“You need to stop this.”

Steph spun so fast she had to cling to the low wall behind her to keep from stumbling. Batman stood – _loomed_ – in front of her, dark cape draped over his shoulders. Behind him, Robin perched on a crenulation, expression impassive behind the white lenses of his mask.

“Don’t let me catch you out here again,” Batman growled, and then he was gone.

She pulled a face after him before she realized Robin still hadn’t left, and she glanced at him guiltily before realizing he couldn’t have seen her face behind the mask and hood anyway. 

“You did good,” he said finally, and then he was gone too.

Steph blew out a breath and sagged down to sit against the wall. Police lights were still flashing behind her, and as she watched the wash of colors flare up around her, she couldn’t help the slow smile that spread over her face. The goddamn Batman might not approve of her, but Arthur Brown was headed back to Blackgate, and as far as she was concerned, that counted as a job well done.

The bag she pulled out of the pocket on her belt was crumpled, and its contents had looked decidedly better before she left the house. There was no syrup, and the battered toaster-baked waffle was beginning to get soggy inside the plastic, but the piece she popped into her mouth was the best she’d ever had.

Justice tasted sweet.

 

**ii.**   
“Strawberry.”

" _Strawberry?_ ”

“Yes.”

“But there’s _cookie dough_ and _cake batter_ and – oh my god, _tiramisu_ …”

“Strawberry,” Cass said again, pointing determinedly at the tub on the other side of the glass. “Two scoops.”

Steph sighed and pressed her face against the frosted glass, browsing through the myriad of flavors for the umpteenth time. A veritable army of sweet treats stood before her, from fruit sorbets to creamy dessert flavors and the rainbow display of ice cream’s most basic.

“Two scoops of Nutella and peanut butter, please,” she decided, passing money over the counter. “And two sugar waffles.”

Cass left to claim a table and licked contentedly at her spoon as Steph followed with an armful of plates, bowls and spoons. Once it had all been safely arranged, she swatted at her friend’s hand to prevent her from taking another bite.

“Don’t eat it all by itself, silly,” Steph tsked as she sat, pulling her own bowl of ice cream toward her. “That’s what the waffles are for.”

So saying, she upended the bowl, dumping both scoops of creamy, chocolate and peanut buttery goodness over the waffle, humming as rivers of partially melted cream flowed into the waffle square reservoirs. Cass eyed her with a mix of curiosity and trepidation as she cut a corner away, making sure to scoop up some ice cream with it.

“Oh my god,” Steph rolled her eyes in pleasure, and cut away a second bite. “Seriously, how have I not made you do this yet.”

Cass slowly scooped a piece of ice cream out of her bowl and set it on the waffle Steph had put in front of her, cutting away a piece of her own and hesitantly taking a bite. Her eyes widened in surprise, and in a quick blur of movement, she dumped her remaining ice cream over the plate.

“It’s amazing, right?” Steph nudged her leg under the table.

“Ssh,” Cass whispered, scooping up a second bite much larger than the first. “This is important.”

 

**iii.**   
Morning sunshine was already streaming through the windows by the time Stephanie stumbled into the kitchen, following her nose to where a fresh pot of coffee was gurgling into existence on the counter. Tim sat at the small table in the corner, staring into his own cup like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to drink it, or simply fall asleep in it. He looked up blearily as she sat across from him, forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“Don’t you have class?” 

“Yup. In about…” Steph glanced at the clock on the wall and grimaced. “Twenty minutes ago.”

He snorted a small laugh and took a sip of coffee, hissing when it burned against a fresh cut on his lip. Steph took an undignified gulp of her own and sighed happily as it warmed its way through her, the heat waking her up more than the caffeine.

They fell into a companionable silence, watching the morning news cover the events of the night before. Footage of vigilantes fighting against a backdrop of flames was cut in with images of the GCFD inspecting the newly damp and smoking ruins, and of Lynns’ heavily scarred face leering at the camera as his guards shoved him in the back of the secure transit vehicle. They had just slammed the doors shut behind him when Alfred appeared in the doorway with a covered tray.

“Breakfast before bed,” he announced, placing the tray between them and lifting the cover to reveal two plates full of eggs, bacon, and a small stack of freshly baked waffles. 

“Guess I did something right,” Steph traded her mug for silverware, and tugged her plate forward. “This looks amazing.”

“As always,” Tim hummed in agreement around a mouthful of eggs, smiling apologetically at Alfred’s look of disapproval. 

“You should stay for breakfast more often,” he said once Alfred had left to check on the others. “You know. When you don’t have class.”

“Not sure the boss agrees with that,” Steph said softly, staring at her plate and trailing her fork through a puddle of syrup. 

Tim stabbed a waffle with his fork, reaching over to drop the entire thing on her plate; he shrugged and smiled slightly at her confused look.

“You’ve earned it.”

 

**iv.**  
Steph slumped against the door with a groan, blindly reaching to turn the lock and listening to the grate of the tumbler sliding home. The house was dark, but she could see the flickering of the television at the end of the hall, muffled voices informing the good people of Gotham that the worst of the crisis was – finally – past them.

_For now._

She sighed and pushed off the door, trudging into the kitchen and setting the bag she carried on the counter with a quiet _thump_. The light flicked on behind her, and she turned to see her mother standing in the doorway. Her hair was a mess, sticking up in unruly spikes, and the bags under her bloodshot eyes were heavy enough to rival Steph’s own.

“I’m home,” Steph smiled, knowing she didn’t look much better. Her entire body ached, her hair was still caked with a number of things she didn’t want to think about, and her knuckles stung from where she’d pounded them raw through her gauntlets. “And I got presents.”

“Presents,” Crystal said more than asked. 

“Yup,” Steph pulled the half damp, half frozen box out of the plastic bag and held it up triumphantly. “Just as long as you don’t mind them being a bit burnt.”

Her mother stepped forward and took the box from her hands, setting it down on the counter and wrapping her daughter in a hug despite the gross in her hair. Steph tightened her arms around her and hid her face in her shoulder, and for a moment, she forgot about the bruises on her ribs and the aches in her shoulders and knees.

“I’ll get the plates, “Crystal finally stepped back, wiping her eyes over the beginnings of a smile, and Steph smiled back.

“Sounds perfect.”


End file.
